"It's...just a formal greeting," he says sheepishly. "We bow to greet mages and dignitaries, too."

Honestly, the cultural knowledge of how to address their own gods has been lost, anyway. He wouldn't know where to begin, aside from giving the respect he would to any full-fledged mage.

The little upturned snake faces are strangely heart-melting. Tentatively, he strokes each head in turn and rubs under their chins. "I think we may have to work on morality and ethics together," he murmurs. "There's always more to learn there. But if they're happy to come with me, I'll take care of them or die trying. Thank you."

In a way, this is a solution to a problem he's never liked to admit he has: loneliness. He's spent a lot of his life surrounded by people with no interest in him, and that feels isolating.